It’s Dallas Week, baby.
The Eagles used to be terrible. The era between the 1960 NFL Championship Game and Dick Vermeil’s arrival was a dark time for this franchise. From 1962 to 1977, the Birds never had a winning record. That’s 16-straight seasons without being above .500. That builds apathy. That builds dissent. That’s exactly what happened to the Eagles fan base back then.
That time period coincided with the rise of the Dallas Cowboys. The star. The uniforms. The cheerleaders. “America’s Team” and all that nonsense. People across the country and, unfortunately, in Philly too, jumped on the Cowboys’ bandwagon. The descendants of those clowns still populate the greater Philadelphia area. You recognize them. They wear baggy denim shorts, the same pair of Air Jordan XIIIs and a flat brim fitted hat. All of these people own Dez Bryant and Ezekiel Elliott jerseys. The bumpers of their Hummer H2s are covered in Cowboys, Yankees and Lakers stickers.
It’s sickening. I hate it. They stand in defiance of everything that makes Philadelphia great and Eagles fandom so special. I loathe the Dallas Cowboys. As my grandfather used to say to my dad during that lost era of Eagles football, “I don’t care if we only win two games all year. They just better be against Dallas.” Playing the Cowboys used to be their Super Bowl. Three generations of Dallas hatred flows through my veins during Dallas Week. We won a Super Bowl. The jokers are over.
It’s time for Carson Wentz to make the comparisons to Dak Prescott look foolish. The stakes have never been higher for Wentz. I’m counting down the minutes until Sunday night.
In the second episode of From the Bleachers, I delve into my Cowboys hatred and why I get so amped for Dallas Week. I appreciate you all for welcoming me into the BGN Radio community and am thankful for anyone who listens to me ramble about my love for the Birds.
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